Sparkling Water
by solisurya
Summary: Benedict Cumberbatch smut. Enough said, I think. Please review. Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated.


Anne walked towards the main door of her plush top floor penthouse, feeling recklessly wild. The man behind her was uncharacteristically quiet as he followed her muffled footsteps on the expensive carpet. Anne fumbled around inside her bag for the keys. Maybe it was because she had denied herself for so long, or it was his British sexiness that was getting to her, but his presence was disconcerting.

Anne finally managed to unlock the door and walked inside the flat, Benedict hot at her heels. She looked around. Her favourite beige leather chair was exactly where she had left it that afternoon. So was the luxurious black leather couch in front of her state-of-the-art 52-inch TV. In the far corner of her living room, stood her pride, her baby, the black coloured grand piano. The half-finished bottle of expensive raspberry-flavoured sparkling water was still standing on the floor near the piano. The room faintly smelled of magnolia oil, which was dispensed by the air freshener sitting on the coffee table.

The familiar sight and smell helped Anne calm down a bit, but seemed to have the opposite effect on her companion. As they had walked into the room, the safety light had switched on and was now shrouding the room in a faint yellowish-red hue. The long shadows casted by the furniture combined with the scent made for a seductive setting, and Benedict couldn't control himself anymore.

With a swift feral movement, he noiselessly attacked her, pushing her into the beige chair. The chair was large enough for the two of them to fit into snugly. Realizing that he had taken her by surprise, he knew that, right now, he had the advantage.

Presently, he firmly pressed his lips against hers. She did not react for a moment. "I want you," he rasped against her mouth, his breath coming out raggedly.

In response, Anne covered the short distance between their lips. The suddenness of the move made Benedict gasp and Anne pushed her tongue into his mouth.

Benedict seemed to have gone limp from her ministrations. Using her considerable strength, Anne pushed his six-foot frame off her. Sucking on his lower lip to distract him, she pushed him across the room towards her piano.

Taking care not to slam it, she quickly closed the lid and before he knew it, Benedict found himself splayed across the instrument. His pupils were blasted open, his eyes seeming almost black, rather than the usual green-blue. More turned on than she could possibly explain, Anne sucked on the flushed skin of his neck, as he stuttered incoherently.

Benedict frantically grabbed at Anne's waist to pull her closer, but she resisted.

"No baby," she purred. "Not like that."

Benedict suddenly found his hands pinned to the sides of his head and his back arched upwards, inviting her to do whatever she wanted with him.

Anne now held both his wrists above his head with one hand, and with the other she proceeded to pop open the buttons of his skin-fit Gucci shirt. He could have easily freed himself if had wished, but his now painful erection seemed to have paralyzed him.

Her head was on his chest as she nipped the thin skin stretched over his collar-bone. Benedict bit back a moan as he was completely relieved of his shirt. Anne continued her firm but gentle caresses down his abdomen to his hips.

Benedict's breath hitched as her fingers ghosted over his navel and towards the buckle of his belt. Suddenly, she shoved a strong hand between his legs and he let out a strangled cry.

"Oh, God, please," he begged. "Please, please!"

"Yes, Benedict," she said in a matter-of-fact voice. "What do you want me to do?"

"Take me, please," he choked wantonly.

"Like this?" she teased, stroking the skin of his nether regions.

Benedict was now trembling with carnal need, thrusting his hips in vain.

"Don't, please. Take me," he whimpered.

Anne was beside herself with excitement to hear that deep, seductive voice reduced to a blabbering mess. She had long let go of his wrists, but somehow his hands were still above his head. The fact that he was so under her command at that moment gave her a sense of power.

In the most languid of motions, she picked up the bottle of sparkling water. It was no wine, admittedly, but it would do.

Benedict was watching her with a combination of lust and trepidation in his eyes. The wariness seemed to egg her on further.

"What do you think I'm going to do with this?" she asked, almost lazily, as if they were having a conversation in front of the TV.

Benedict merely gulped in response. A still-present logical part of her brain wondered what he was so afraid of. She obviously wasn't going to hurt him. He knew that. She cared too much.

"Lust and fear are often two sides of the same coin," she remembered from an old psychology lecture in school.

Benedict was watching her in surprise. "What's wrong?" he questioned cautiously.

"Nothing. I'm just wondering what I'll do to you next," she smirked.

She quickly yanked his boxers off, knowing that the friction would elicit further reaction.

Anne took a step back to admire her handiwork. Benedict lay before her in all his naked glory, lips swollen, skin flushed where her lips had touched it, with a sheen of sweat all over it and his eyes a wonderful, intense dark green. She took a moment to admire the Adonis before her willing her to do as she pleased with his body. Her eyes travelled down towards his leaking erection begging for her attention.

Undoing the cork, she poured down some of the liquid on his body. The sudden contact of cool liquid on warm skin made Benedict shudder. And when a trickle made its way down to his male parts, he gave an agonized yell.

The sight made Anne lose all her detachment. With a sudden flare of passion, she dived on him, sinfully licking off the water.

Benedict's moans filled the room as his body was cleaned up by Anne's tongue. Through the fog in his head, he suddenly realized that he was completely naked, while she was fully dressed. The idea made him feel so dirty and debauched that he almost climaxed.

"Please," he begged. "I c-can't!"

"Don't!" growled Anne. "Not yet."

Realizing that Benedict was not going to last much longer, Anne quickly unzipped her own jeans and pushed it down her thighs with her panties. Without any preamble, she got on top of him and eased him inside her. This seemed to shake him out of his trance. He brought down his hands onto her thighs. Anne could not stifle the gasp that escaped her.

Anne looked down into Benedict's eyes and saw something more than lust. It was emotion. It spurred her on. She started thrusting firmly. His eyes closed with pure ecstasy, he figured out a rhythm quickly and started rutting against her thrusts with perfect timing.

For the next thirty seconds, the shadowed room was filled with Benedict's moans and the sounds of sex. Suddenly there was an agonized scream as Benedict finally climaxed and a loud groan from Anne as she climaxed almost immediately.

Hot, white waves swam before their eyes as they came slowly down from their respective highs.

Benedict got up from the piano and gave Anne a sweet kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered. "That was wonderful!"

Anne simply smiled and asked him if he would stay for dinner.

"Yeah," he said. "I'd like that"

Anne quickly warmed up some leftover risotto while Benedict made some garlic bread. While the bread was in the oven, Anne opened another bottle of sparkling water and took the plates through the French doors onto the balcony. Benedict, who had come in with the basket of bread, saw the water and smiled.

"Are you going to pour that on me," he teased.

"No," Anne laughed. "It's for drinking. I want you to taste it. You didn't get a chance last time," she winked. "I did all the drinking"

"More like lapping."

They laughed. Anne poured out the water and they ate together in companionable silence. They spent the rest of the evening sipping sparkling water as they looked out at the lights of the sprawling city beneath them.


End file.
